


I've Got To Go Home

by hot_damn_louis



Series: 12 Days Of Christmas 2014 [7]
Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:08:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2789453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_damn_louis/pseuds/hot_damn_louis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Idea sent in by anonymous:<br/><b>Based off of Home by Michael Buble. I thought of Louis following his dream to become a singer, but he has to leave Harry behind. They decide to breakup before he leaves on tour for some reason, but while he's gone Harry opens a bakery which follows along the part of the song that says 'I know why you couldn't come with me'. So the song starts out in summer but ends with winter, and Louis could go home at Christmas finally and they reunite.</b>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got To Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to Kezia. She helped me find out what was missing from this fic when I needed her. 
> 
> I just want to say that I love writing fics based off of songs, and I love alluding to the lyrics and it just makes me really happy that this anon sent not only one, but two songs in to have made into fics and I'm so happy that they did. 
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://hot-damn-louis.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> Title is from Home by Michael Buble.

“I can’t wait for us to move in together,” Harry murmured as Louis held him tight, Louis’ face pressed into his curls. Louis ignored the guilty stab in his stomach as he hugged Harry tighter, pressing himself closer to Harry’s back. “When you get back from touring, I want to move in with you and we could live together. Maybe get a dog, you know? I just want a home with you,” Harry added, twisting out of Louis’ grip to sit up, smiling down at Louis.

Louis sat up, his stomach churning with guilt and pain as he winced at Harry’s happy face. “I kinda wanted to talk about that with you,” Louis said, extracting himself from Harry. “About us,” Louis added, as if it wasn’t clear already. Harry’s eyebrows pulled together, his lips frowning as he scooted away from Louis on the bed, pulling one knee to his chest.

“Louis, are you breaking up with me?” Harry asked, his voice a bit shaky. Louis couldn’t help but feel sorrow for the boy he was in love with.

“I love you so much, Harry. So much that my heart practically bursts with love every time I look at you. But, while I’m on tour, I don’t want to hold you down. I want to let you fly, Harry. I want you to live life how you want to. I can’t be an ocean away and still consider myself to be your boyfriend. It’s unfair to you and it’s unfair to us when I’m traveling all over touring while you’re sitting vigil here,” Louis explained, his stomach in more pain now. He shoved his fist against his stomach, pressing into the twist of pain.

“So we’re taking a break,” Harry cleared up, his eyes dropping to his hands, his body curling in on itself.

“Yes. In the simplest form, yes. I’m going away and… and you’re going to stay here and do whatever you want because I don’t want to hold you down, Harry. I don’t want you to hold onto me when you could be out doing something wonderful,” Louis said, reaching out to touch Harry’s knee. Harry didn’t move, his eyes moving up to look at Louis’ hand on his knee.

“Is this really what you want?” Harry asked with a sniffle, looking up at Louis with his eyes bleary.

“Yes,” Louis said plainly, the whole situation cutting into his heart. He almost started crying when he saw the first few tears slip from Harry’s eyes, Harry not even bothering to wipe them away. Louis wanted to reach out and wipe them away but he realized that he just revoked his own privilege of that.

“Then, yes. I’m fine. Or, I will be eventually,” Harry said, turning to stand up. He got off of the bed, his eyes scanning for his phone. “Look, Louis, I’m just going to leave, alright? I’ll… I’ll see you when you get back from tour,” Harry added when he was at the door of Louis’ bedroom, his eyes looking anywhere but Louis.

“Alright then, Harry,” Louis said quietly, staring at Harry as he walked out of the room, his eyes downcast. Louis couldn’t help but feel like running towards Harry and asking for him back but he knew this was for the best. This was the only way that both of them could grow and mature.

***

Louis had barely left his house when he opened up his messages to text Harry a quick note about the cab driver that was taking him to the airport. He just saved the silly message to drafts, biting his lip to prevent the emptiness in his chest from feeling too painful. He tucked his phone into his backpack, closing his eyes and trying to breathe deep to purge his brain of any and all thoughts for a moment, trying to get a bit of clarity. He could feel the beat of his heart and the  sensation of Harry under his fingertips, something that Louis thought that he could never forget.

***

Louis always felt an urge to text Harry. Considering the fact that up until now Louis texted Harry nearly every minute he wasn’t working, it seemed weird to not send Harry the photo of Louis in London and him in Ireland and him in  Greece and in France. It was weird for Louis to not share every waking moment of his life with the boy he loved, and he could feel the hole where part of his heart was. It was only a month in and Louis already felt his body starting to become hollow, the gap in his heart widening every moment he was without Harry.

In Paris the loneliness got so unbearable that he had to cuddle with Zayn on the tour bus, his head pressed against the back of Zayn’s shoulder as he sobbed out tears. This episode was spawned by the picture on Instagram that showed Harry and Niall at a storefront, Harry saying that the building might be the new place for Harry to open a bakery.

In Rome, Louis cried alone in his hotel room when he saw that Harry had bought the place for his bakery. Louis thought that he would move on, but not like this. Not in the way that Louis had been talking about for so many years. Louis thought that he couldn’t be more lonely while being in a city of millions of people. All he wanted was to go home.

***

“Zayn, I don’t want to be here,” Louis said, tugging on Zayn’s shirt sleeve as they entered the club, the deep bass beat thrumming through their feet. “I just want to sulk in my hotel room. Is that too much to ask?” Louis added, pinching Zayn’s arm.

“I figured that taking you out might prevent you from acting like such a twat when we are in the hotel. I mean, you are happy and joyful when you’re performing but the second you’re off stage you act like you cat just died. I figured this might help,” Zayn said, tugging Louis to the bar. “I’ll buy you a drink, you can dance, we can enjoy ourselves. Just loosen up, alright?” Zayn added, leaning over to yell a drink at the bartender. Louis glanced around the club, trying to relax into the atmosphere. It almost felt like desperation as he tried to move to the beat of the music. Louis felt a bit ridiculous next to Zayn but didn’t tell him that, instead trying to look like he cared.

After about three shots and a sad attempt to dance with Zayn on the dancefloor, maybe losing himself in it for a few moments, Louis sat at an empty table with three shots, downing them one after the other in quick succession before starting in on eating the granola bar that suddenly appeared in front of him, courtesy of Zayn.

“I didn’t mean for you to drown your sorrows with alcohol, Lou,” Zayn muttered, grabbing him by his arm and leading him outside, the crisp breeze biting at his skin.

“Everything reminds me of Harry,” Louis mumbled, his mouth full with the granola bar that Zayn had given him. “Everything reminds me of home. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that,” Louis added, swallowing thickly.   

***

When Louis got to the US he saved another text to Harry as a draft, adding to the collection that had started to collect there, each one sounding bland and heartless but Louis didn’t care. He was in sunny New York and his heart felt empty inside. He cried in the airport bathroom, telling Zayn that all he wanted to do was to go home. Zayn patted his back and murmured reassurances in his ear but none of that could fill the deep chasm that was longingness in his heart.

***

When Louis was in Cleveland, Harry posted a picture on Instagram that showed him in front of that same building, the grand opening of his bakery _Harry’s_. Louis couldn’t help but hold in a sob as he walked into the venue he was playing in, flashes of light behind him. Zayn couldn’t help but hug him tight against his chest, crushing Louis’ face to his shoulder.

“Just go back to him,” Zayn whispered into his ear. “Seeing you this lonely is even tearing _me_ apart,” Zayn added, pulling away.

“Let’s just focus on work, alright? You’re my tour manager. You should be telling me to focus and not dwell on Harry,” Louis said, wiping his eyes of tears. “I’ll be fine, Zayn. Don’t you worry. I’ve only got a month or so of tour left, now don’t I? Its most of the way through October now and I leave the states the middle of December to go back to my family. I’ll see Harry when I see him,” Louis added, more for himself than for Zayn’s reassurance.

“As your tour manager, I think it’s important that I tell you not to let the love of your life go,” Zayn argued, frowning. Louis just sighed, turning away to get ready for his performance.

***

Before Louis knew it he was having to bundle up when he went outside, a hat squishing his hair down. All he could think about was the fact that his beanie was Harry’s and that his jean jacket he wore over his hoodies was Harry’s too. The drafts of texts in his phone had accumulated over the months, almost 100 messages that Louis wished he had sent to Harry. Zayn was almost done with him, threatening to schedule a plane ticket back to London if Louis didn’t shape up and talk to Harry. Louis settled for commenting on one of his Instagram photos, biting his lip nervously as he typed out the message.

Harry didn’t reply back.

A saying that Louis had always heard growing up was ‘Home is where the heart is’. Louis figured that the reason why he was so sorrow is because his heart was with Harry and all Louis wanted to do was go home.

***

“Hi, mum,” Louis said, hugging his mother as he entered his old home, the scent of cookies filling the house.

“Thought you were bringing Harry?” his mother asked, pulling away to hold Louis at arms length. “I bet he is just coming in another car,” his mother said, walking towards the kitchen.

“Mum. He’s not coming,” Louis said, looking down at his shoes. He inhaled sharply, biting his lip. “I broke things off with him before I started my tour,” Louis added, the tears welling up in his eyes. “Am I just stupid? Because I think I let go the thing that made me truly feel whole. I let go the boy that I had fell in love with at 18 and who loved me back all of this time. I told him to move on, mum. I told him that I wanted him to fly, and he flew right to Niall and that bakery and I can’t help but be jealous,” Louis said quietly, rubbing his hands together.

“Every day I feel like I’m someone else. Like I’m not myself without Harry by my side. I knew exactly why he couldn’t come with me on tour and why I thought to break up with him. We both knew he wanted that bakery and that he couldn’t come with me on tour when it wasn’t his dream to begin with, you know? He supports me and loves me, or at least he did, and I didn’t support him on his own journey. I needed to be there and make sure he was fulfilling his dreams. I feel like shit, mum. I just want to go home,” Louis said, not daring to look up at his mother.

“Oh, Louis,” she said, pulling Louis into a hug. “I know he will take you back,” she whispered into his ear. She pulled away, practically shoving Louis away from her. “Go get him. Tell him you love him. I cannot sit here with you moping around, mister. Go get that boy and hold him and tell him you love him because that is the only way for you to get back home,” she added, smiling at Louis. “Don’t let him go,” she whispered, blowing Louis a kiss as he shoved the beanie onto his head.

“Thanks, mum. I love you,” Louis said, leaving before hearing a reply, getting into his car quickly. He just wanted to go home.

***

Louis got to London late that night, his eyes wide with sleep and his brain holding onto one thing: Harry. Louis just wanted Harry back and wasn’t going to sleep until he knew that Harry wasn’t mad at him. All Louis wanted was his home back, no matter how much time that took.

He arrived at Harry’s flat with half of a plan and adrenaline coursing through his veins, walking up the door confidently, rapping on it three times as he waited for Harry to answer. When Harry answered, flour in his hair and a blank look on his face, Louis didn’t bother with introductions. He pulled Harry into a hug, crushing his own face into Harry’s shoulder, breathing deeply. Traitor tears spilled from his eyes and onto Harry’s jumper, his body feeling light with joy.

“Harry, I’m home,” Louis mumbled into Harry, squeezing Harry impossibly tight against him.

“You’re home,” Harry replied, kissing the top of Louis’ head.

Louis pulled away, his eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry for letting you down, Harry. I’m sorry for not helping your dreams. I’m sorry for not talking to you. I’m sorry for being such a doofus, Harry. All I want is to have you back. To have my home back. Can you ever forgive me?” Louis asked Harry, his eyes wide with hope.

“Yes, Louis, of course I can. Come in. Welcome home,” Harry said, smiling at Louis.

 

 


End file.
